


Irassal ma ghilas, ma garas mir renan.

by birdysepia



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Demisexual Cole, Demisexuality, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Damage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdysepia/pseuds/birdysepia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title means "Wherever you shall go, follow my voice" and is part of a Dalish Lullaby called "Mir Da'len Somniar"<br/>The action takes place after the Trespasser DLC.<br/>My Inquisitor's name is Itha Lavellan, which means "the one that sees". She's in her early 20s, probably 20 or 21, no more, carries heavy emotional bagage and romanced Solas, so when he left her, everything went dark for her and she's basically experiencing acute depression and anxiety.<br/>Also I consider Cole as demisexual, so even if there is smut, it might not be right now.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. I can hear you.

**Author's Note:**

> The title means "Wherever you shall go, follow my voice" and is part of a Dalish Lullaby called "Mir Da'len Somniar"  
> The action takes place after the Trespasser DLC.  
> My Inquisitor's name is Itha Lavellan, which means "the one that sees". She's in her early 20s, probably 20 or 21, no more, carries heavy emotional bagage and romanced Solas, so when he left her, everything went dark for her and she's basically experiencing acute depression and anxiety.  
> Also I consider Cole as demisexual, so even if there is smut, it might not be right now.

« Okay… Woman up now and be a hero”, Itha spits at her reflection in the mirror. She looks at herself with a tired face. Under her grey, almond-shaped eyes, the dark circles get more and more visible. She can’t sleep, she’s too afraid she’ll see him in her inside world. She is too sad. And nothing can make her better. Instinctively, her fingers slide over her left elbow, coming across nothing but thin air. She is diminished, made unable to do what she used to do so easily. She looks back at her pale, bony face that gets skinnier each day. She feels useless and she hates herself. And more than anything else, she hates herself for still loving him. Filthy liar! But she can’t forget him, she can’t hate him. She’s helpless. How could she help the world to rebuild itself when her body and mind are nothing but ruins?  
She is painfully numb. Seeing him again has finished to destroy her. She was never a happy person, she is used to hurt and sadness. But this, this is different. It’s like a hole has been carved into her chest and her whole being keeps pouring out of it, and it hurts, it hurts so much.  
But she needs to be brave. Her mission isn’t over. She wants to help reconstruct what has been destroyed, to help the ones that have been deprived. But she doesn’t know if she can be this hero much longer. She feels like a little grain of sand in the cogs of the world. She feels helpless and clueless and nothing seems to ease her pain. Her companions try to help. The Iron Bull pats her back and offers her drinks, Varric tells her jokes and makes her read, Cassandra tries in her own awkward way to distract her, and Dorian takes her to shops and balls and walks. But Dorian’s leaving, now. He says it’s thanks to her that he now believes that things can change. And that’s why she knows she can’t just lie down and die. People need what she represents. People need hope, to believe that the world is going to get better. She has a responsibility, carries on her shoulders the wishes of so many men and women. They need a guide, something that reminds them that they can do what they want to do.  
She wants to give them that. She must give them that. She is a symbol.

Backing away from the mirror, she collapses on the nearest sofa and buries herself under a loden wool blanket. There’s only one flaw to her plan. How is she supposed to make people hope when, herself, she is unable to look at the next day with a smile on her face?

While she’s curled up under the soft and warm fabric, she hears a noise in the stairs coming to her quarters. It’s probably Josephine, visiting her for their daily chat. The elven girl moans softly. She feels guilty of not rewarding any of her companions’ efforts. She feels bad for not being able to fake it like she used to do. She was able to make it seem easy. But it’s not easy. She rubs her legs together and hides her face in her hands. She doesn’t want to talk. She just wishes she could disappear. The person enters the room and climbs the last stairs. That is strange. Ambassador Montilyet, polite as she is, always knocks before coming in. Soft footsteps on the carpet, a slow breath in the silence. Itha stays perfectly still, awaiting for the visitor to talk, or to attack. She says to herself that if someone stabbed her right now, it would almost be a blessing.

“You hurt. You hurt so much. I want to help.”

The gentle voice that says these words, she knows it like no other. It’s Cole. She opens her eyes, spreading her fingers, and sees his long slender silhouette standing right next to where she lies. She opens her mouth but no sound comes out of it. She has avoided Cole as much as she could. She doesn’t want him to get involved. He’s happy. He makes Maryden happy and she makes people happy. He helps. That’s his purpose.

“I apologize, Cole. This is not a pain you can heal”, she says, her voice broken. An expression of disappointment and sadness appears on his face and he frowns.

“You talk like Solas. But you are not like him. You still believe there are things worth saving.”

Itha sits up, her eyes already tearing up. She feels ridiculous and fragile and she hates it. She looks into Cole’s hazy blue eyes, looking for something that shows how he really feels. But even though she is the one that sees, she can’t read people’s minds. And especially not spirit-people’s minds.

“ _Hurting, burning, plaguing doubt eating its way in your head like a worm. Why did he do this, why did he tear my heart out me?_ ”

The slim elven woman stands up suddenly, almost jumping from the sofa. The blanket falls at her feet, on the ground. She stands in front of Cole, and even though she’s tall for her kind, she feels belittled by his height. She gently puts her hand on his chest and pushes him away.

“Please, Cole, there is nothing you can do about this pain. Please let it go.”

She shakes her head slowly, looking at his naïve pale face. It is not so simple, she thinks. He shouldn’t waste his time on her. She has always wanted to protect him, and now she has to protect him from her.

“You have to promise you will stay away. It’s only going to hurt you. I need only time. Help people that you can help”, she whispers, trying to keep her voice calm. She has a lot of tenderness and affection for him, and that is the exact reason why she can’t let him help.

“I can hear your pain. No matter how faraway we are, Inquisitor. I just want to help. You helped me and I can’t let you be like this.”

Itha shakes her head, unsure what to say. She just doesn’t want to use Cole just because he wants to help. She still believes that he can’t do anything. She forces herself to smile at him.

“I need to rest. Please, let it go for now. We can talk about this later. Please, Cole.”

He sighs, looks at her with his sad blue eyes. He’s even paler than her.

"I was glad when you came to talk to me. You never talk to me like you used to. But i can still hear your pain."

She slides her fingers in her black hair cut into a short bob. She squeezes the back of her neck while he stares at her face. They look at each other like that, both of them with the fierce will to convince each other that they should listen. After a moment, Itha realises that she has to make a move so that they reach a compromise, or else they'll stay like this for hours.

“Listen, I swear I will talk to you so you can help. But please, give me time.”

He pouts desperately but seems to understand. He backs away, looks at her one last time, and leaves the room, without a word.  
Once he has left, Itha lets herself fall back onto the sofa, her arm tightly wrapped around her. She doesn’t know what to do. She wants him to be safe but she knows he wants to help and she isn't sure she has the strength to prevent him from suffering because of her own pain. She grabs her head with her hand and groans softly. She needs to make up her mind. The light is gone and she can't see. Most of her days are spent in the dark of her quarters, crying, when she isn't representing the Inquisition, making decisions, or letting Dagna run tests to craft a new, magic-controlled arm for her. She uses most of her energy to make up excuses not to get out with her companions. She's tired of this. Maybe she could use some time away from it all, not pretending, not faking, just letting go of her feelings. She just doesn't want to inflict this to him.

While she sits there, struggling with her thoughts, someone knocks. It's Josephine. Itha gets up and opens the door, a faint smile on her lips. The Antivan smiles back, widely, and enters. The two women go to the balcony and sit on the fence, discussing several things, gently mocking Cullen's shyness when it comes to women, or talking about Vivienne's last comment about Itha's clothing. 

"She says I look like a hobo, like a person that has lived in the forest for years, eating only larvae and roots. She might not be that wrong, actually", the young Elven says, her mouth curving slightly upwards as she pulls on her Dalish tunic, shaking slightly her head. 

"Well, Madame de Fer has very specific taste when it comes to how one should dress. Maybe you should try wearing a headdress with horns, Inquisitor", answers Josie in a playful way, smiling again at her young friend. She glances tenderly at her while the elf continues to make conversation. She is too young to carry such a burden. And to discover that her lover actually wants to destroy the world. The brown-eyed woman wonders how she can still be standing and even pretending to be at least okay. She doesn't understand why Itha refuses any sort of help, why she keeps closing herself from the world when she would need the care of her friends more than anything else. Maybe it is pride. Or maybe it is something else.


	2. Andaran atish’an.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itha Lavellan finally enjoys a little bit of free time. She then goes to one of the nearest forests to spend time alone. Of course it doesn't happen like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how late I updated this! Had to go to the UK to organize a few things. still, I hope you enjoy what you read!

 

When she awoke, this day, the sun was already high in the sky, its rays hesitantly entering Itha’s quarters, filtering through the peach-colored curtains that obstructed completely the window, and bathing the whole room in a warm faint light.

She made a strange noise and rolled all over the bed, wrapping herself in the soft warm covers. She didn’t want to get out of bed and have to fake all day that she was still standing, strong, heroic. She didn’t feel that way. She wished she could have gone back to the forest, spending days there in the silence that she loved so much. She had never really liked the Dalish way of life, having to respect traditions and not asking questions about what was believed. But she missed the freedom of the nomad life. Maybe a few days away from this all would have helped. But she had no choice. She had responsibilities and leaving was out of the question. With a last desperate growl, she threw one of her feet on the ground, then the other, then sat up in the bed, her short hair so messy it almost drew a halo around her head. She smiled ironically. She had nothing of a god, or even of a messiah. During this whole time she had denied her status of Herald. Or if not denied, she had never said that she was sent by anyone. Her personal opinion was that it was all coincidence. But she had had to face everything life put in her way. Someone was needed and even though she was no born-leader, she had done her best to set things back in order. And now that this was done, she still had so much to do.

She stood up, wearing only her smallclothes, and walked to the bathtub. Someone had had the good idea to fill it with warm water while she was still asleep. She would never get used to it, but it was a nice change of pace from the freezing rivers in which she used to bathe with her clan. It still felt weird though. She threw her underclothes on the floor behind her, and slipped into the water. Bathing salts and oils were placed near, and she just had to reach for a bottle, at random. By chance, the one she grabbed and poured on her damaged body smelled of jasmine. Once again, she was more used to she smell of ashes, dirt and stone, maybe crow soap at best, but she didn’t dislike those urban and luxurious smells. It just felt strange, unusual, and it definitely seemed like she didn’t belong there. In Skyhold, at least, appearance and such things were not the first worry. Unlike here. Not that she thought presenting well was wrong, but it just felt strange for her whose first concern had never been her looks. Her hair was cut in a short bob and partly tied on the back of her head because it was practical. Her slight freckles had never bothered her and the scars near her mouth and on her cheek were simply part of what she was. She didn’t look at herself much all together. She kept clean for health and comfort but that was pretty much all she did. While she was curled up in the bath, the steam relaxed her face and her body ached less. She stayed for a very long time, until her fingers were full of folds and her pale skin was crayfish red, but finally she got out and dried herself with a large soft bathsheet. She got dressed in her Dalish-style casual outfit. She preferred to wear pants instead of unpractical, uncovering dresses. She just put a thin and long jacket made of Dalish Loden wood and silk, embroidered, all of green and pale purple, with vegetal patterns. The left sleeve was just long enough to cover what was left of her arm and hide the place where her top was folded. After combing her hair, she decided not to tie it. Short locks flowed around her face and she put one back in place behind an ear before exiting the room. Her first task was to go see Josephine, who would remind her of what she had to attend to or do on this day. She sighed and took the way leading to the Ambassador’s office. Josie was so sweet it felt almost awkward, since she wanted so badly to help and Itha was completely unable to open up. Not because of pride, but because trusting someone about her personal feelings was something she had learned not to do.

As a teenager, she was promised in bonding to some man from another clan, to fortify the agreements made between both sides, and had made the mistake of talking about her doubts to a friend. That friend had of course told everything to Keeper Deshanna and the bonding had been cancelled, the agreements too and the long-lasting friendship between the two clans broken. All because of her. Everyone had looked upon her with spite for months, even years for some of them. She should have been grateful not to be exiled. Keeper Deshanna was a kind woman but not everyone shared her views. She had been the one to take Itha under her wing after she had to leave her clan and her family to become Second with the Lavellans. She had been lucky to find another clan in need of a Second or else she would have died. And that’s how she thanked them, by breaking the friendship between clan Lavellan and one of its best allies. Everytime she had been openly honest with someone, that person had betrayed her. And Solas was just the last of a long list. What he had said to her… She couldn’t help but believe it. Ar lath ma, vhenan… She couldn’t think he had layed with her under false pretences. He seemed so true, his embraces and his kisses felt sincere. She had given herself to him, her young body pressed against his, and he had abandoned her. Poor, young, inexperienced elven woman, she stood no chance against the ways of this man. Age didn’t seem to be a problem, but maybe it was, since he had left her to go rebuild a world of elven glory, even if it meant destroying this one and killing her. Her mind was a whirlwind of troubled thoughts. She barely listened to what Josephine told her about her duties, but something drew her attention. She turned her head towards the tanned woman.

“I’m sorry Josephine, I think I missed the last thing you said”, she told her softly, with a small smile. The Antivan looked at her with a surprised face, then smiled back.

“I was just telling you that after you go see Dagna, you have nothing that needs your attention for three days, Inquisitor. I mean, Itha.”

The lean elven woman blinked, astonished. Her wish had come true! She could get away from this city for a few days, go back to the forest, and think of something else for a while. Her smile widened. She knew she couldn’t really hunt, unless she did it with magic, or maybe with a javelin. But the perspective of being alone with the Nature made her really happy. Even in a strange forest she didn’t know. She was walking on her.

 “Is it alright if I leave for those three days? I really need to unwind.” She stopped for a second. “I’ll just go somewhere quiet in the forest, alone, I’ll be discreet, no one will find me, there’s no risk of anything. I won’t go far. I can mark the place on a map so you know where I am.”

Josephine opened and closed her mouth, a dissatisfied look on her face. But her expression softened. After all, the Inquisitor was stubborn and she would go with or without her approval. Maybe she could arrange so that the area was secured before. She didn’t know how able Itha was since she had lost her arm. She would just send a few scouts there, at a fine distance from Lavellan, to be assured that nothing happened to her. Her presence was still irreplaceable. The diplomat nodded slowly and Itha stood up immediately.

After meeting with Dagna, she went back to her quarters and grabbed a leather satchel, where she put a map, firestarters, her Loden Wool blanket that she folded, smallclothes and bands for her feet and a comb. She then went to the kitchen where she got dry meat, fruits, cheese and bread, and a metal cup. She then got a bedroll and, with all that in her hands, headed to Josephine’s office, marked on her map where she wanted to go. It was only a few hours ride. Not too far. She then left and almost ran to the stable. She put her things on the red hart’s back and, without further ado, not saying goodbye to anyone, she sat on the hart and left.

The wind in her hair gave her a feeling of freedom and carelessness that she hadn’t felt in months. She didn’t go too fast, just at a nice pace, to be where she wanted to go a few hours before sunset. It was summer, so she had some time. There was no need to rush. She enjoyed the landscape and the sun on her face felt warm. For a few moments she could almost forget what had happened during the last few months and make herself believe that she was just the same as before, free to go wherever she wanted. Her sadness had made her forget how great all of this felt. They had defeated Corypheus, given the world a little bit more time, made things better from everyone in Thedas. Well, maybe not everyone, but most people. At least, she hoped so.

But still, she could not be happy. Her hurt was so strong, it would take years before she could get truly better, or at least that was what it felt like. But if she was unable to hope for a better future, she could hope to be able to hope, after some time. And this was reassuring. Her embroidered coat floated around her in the wind, and the sound of its flapping brought back some memories. This coat was her mother’s. It was unusually detailed and decorated for a piece of Dalish clothing, and had been in the family for several generations. Having it on made her feel at home. Its familiar smell of woodfire and scented herbs gave her the feeling her mother was looking after her. Of course, it made her melancholic, thinking of her childhood, when she was still with her family, before she discovered her magic and had to join clan Lavellan, that needed a Second. She remembered sobbing in her mother’s arms before going to join them, and her mother giving her this coat. It was full of her scent and she had slept in it for months, until it the smell was all gone. Then, she'd had to grow up, and when Deshanna, who became Keeper when the Keeper died, made her First, she had to let her childhood go. But she kept the coat with her for years, wearing it whenever she could, fixing the tears that sometimes came weakening the fabric.

When finally she got to the forest, she made Nin, her brown hart, slow down, and she entered between the trees at a measured pace, continuing to ride for a while, until she found a small clearing surrounded by bushes and where trees grew on tall rocks, some of them rooting inside the cracks of the crags. Not far was a river streaming slowly, twirling around old trees and stones. It was the perfect place to camp during those three days of freedom. No one would come for her now. She was just a marginal elf roaming the forest.

She spent the next few hours lighting fire, setting traps around the camp just in case, and then took some time to bring Nin to the river so she could drink. She seized the moment to clean herself, taking her top and footwraps off, and then came back to camp, putting her clothes back on. Her bedroll laid nicely near the fire and her bag was still closed, with most of her food and stuff inside of it. She sat on it, letting Nin go freely around camp. She finally came back near the elven woman where she stood for a moment. That made Itha wonder. Usually, the Hart would lay near her and the two of them would eventually cuddle, the young inquisitor patting her mount on the neck. There was a bond between them, forged by hours of riding through diverse dangers, battles and fields. At some point, the tall animal snorted softly, and Itha stood up, alert, and gave a look around the clearing. That’s when she saw him, next to the Green Dale Feral horse he liked so much to pet but hated to ride. Well, he hated riding anything. She sighed, and stepped towards him.

“Cole, what are you doing here? Why did you follow me?”

 The boy looked at her with a guilty expression on his face. He probably knew that she wanted to be alone.

 “You said you would come and talk to me. But then you didn’t. I was worried. I just want to help…”

 Of course he was worried. She hoped he wouldn’t notice that she was gone. That was stupid of her. Cole noticed everything. It was the essence of his being. She felt bad for making him worry. She didn’t want him to be afraid for her. She wanted him to be happy. Joining him by the middle of the clearing, she had a faint smile.

 “I’m sorry Cole. I should have told you that I was going. I did not mean to frighten you.”

He let go of his horse’s reins, and both mounts went frolicking further near the rocks. His hand trembled but he lifted it and went to put it on the young black-haired elf’s left shoulder. She grabbed her coat’s sleeve right under where her elbow stopped, and started to stutter something, but he was quicker.

 “You helped me. You worried every time you saw me go into the dark. Let me just return the favour.”

At first she just wanted to tell him to go back. But she realised he was actually welcome. She realised his presence would actually feel comforting. After all, she had always been unable to hide anything from him. But it just felt weird to finally think it “out loud”. She was actually glad he followed.

“All right, Cole. You can stay. Thank you for caring about me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry, there is not much Cole in here. It's more of a character development and introspection chapter. I promise next chapter will be all about Cole and Lavellan, and how their relationship evolves. We will probably learn a bit more about his relationship with Maryden too.

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapters are going to be quite depressing, but hopefully it will get better with time (like Itha). I used a few lines of canon banter here and there. Also, for the lol, i included a few sentences from songs that i listened to while writing this fic. 
> 
> By the way, English is not my first language and i'm totally new to fanfiction so please don't hesitate to tell me if there are things that seem out of character, too cheesy or just wrong! Thanks a lot, i hope you guys enjoy this. I'll try to update every week or something like that! If you want to, please leave kudos so I know you liked it, it helps my low self esteem haha


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